Things have changed. The boy has grown older, and a year of life under the tutelage of the two most powerful and almighty wolves in Moladion has taught him much. Though he can sense that Stella has changed since the birth of his younger brother, Castiel is incapable of thinking any less of the all-mother. She and Elijah were colossal, two pillars that no wolf dared come against - and for good reason. They are the foundation of his life, and the strength upon which he draws each breath of his existence. And yet, he knows that Dirge has taken something from his mother that cannot be given back. How a life so tiny and miniscule could so greatly affect the all-mother, Castiel was unsure. But Dirge was a creation of the all-mother and all-father, just like him, and that bestowed a boundless might upon his head. Perhaps the power that had been lacked in the creation of Ilias had been given in excess to Dirge. Castiel could not be certain, these were things beyond his realm of knowledge.

Since the birth of the child, Stella had not been seen outside the den. Castiel would hover nearby, positioning himself at just the right angle at just the right time of day to be able to peer within the bowels of the cave and observe the all-mother and the whelp. But it is not in such a way that the pastel strewn boy observes his mother and brother this day. Instead, he stands boldly within the shadow of the mouth of the cave, all but unseen by his mother as she snaps at Dirge before retreating from him. Yellow and blue eyes narrow, watching as Stella is driven back seemingly by the force of her newborn son. He watches as his mother thrashes her head to and fro until red blossoms along her lips, blood bubbling from within. The boy had not come this day to figure out what was wrong with her, but his concern is piqued by what he observes. Finally, though, she stops and as she scratches at her head the pale hued boy stepped forward from the shadows. He is reminded of why he has come this day, and he will not forget it.

White paws bring him past the wriggling form of his baby brother, no more than a flick of his blonde-tipped tail given in acknowledgement of the son that Stella had retreated from. Castiel was conflicted on whether or not to recognize the power that Dirge seemed to hold at such a young age. But it only fuels the intrigue that he has come to question the all-mother about this day. Sitting before her, he looks down at her with a somewhat vacant, emotionless stare. "What is my purpose?" he asks, blinking as he waits for a reply. He then leans down and licks at the blood that trickles from his mother's lips, before reclining back once more and staring at her with that same empty expression, so devoid of sentiment.